


PRAGMATICS

by kurgaya



Series: LINGUA [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Deaf Character, Don't copy to another site, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Ostracism, Social Exclusion/Isolation, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18011498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: Heart pounding, he dashes along the roof to the street corner, locating the two women. Judging by their dress, they're civilians, and Kakashi follows them along their stroll and watches their hands take the forms of KSL signs.[Deaf!Kakashi AU. The first time they meet and what may be the last time they meet. (It isn't, but Kakashi doesn't know that.)]





	PRAGMATICS

**Author's Note:**

> Marked _mature_ due to Kakashi's **intention to commit suicide** at the beginning. No actual attempt is made.
> 
> Just a bit of backstory and world-building with the deaf community here :) (See, the problem with ordering this series chronologically is _where_ am I supposed to put a fic with a 21 year timeskip?)

**THE FIRST TIME**

Eight months after his father’s death, Kakashi realises he may as well be dead.

It’s not a decision that he simply _makes_ one day: it creeps up on him like his father’s enemies and festers inside of his chest. He wouldn’t call it a disease or a condition; there are many things wrong with him, he knows, in the eyes of the village, and without a family, communication, or the means to look after himself, his bright, Hatake mind is all he has left. There cannot be anything wrong with it: it’s all he has, it’s all his father had. It’s their saving grace - and their undoing. Thoughts are weapons, Kakashi knows this, but it’s only now, after his father’s suicide, that he’s beginning to understand.

He doesn’t decide to die: he accepts death.

There's no reason not to.

Kakashi hands over his mission scroll, a basic D-rank. The mission office have been reluctant to issue anything else since his father's passing, even though he's now a chūnin. They probably think they're doing him a favour; they think that he's grieving, but he hasn't been for weeks. The pain is numb now as though his skin, bones, and even his heart are cold. The officer at the desk glances at him and then shakes her head, glancing away. Kakashi knows the drill by now. He shoves his hands into pockets and keeps his head down as he exits, preferring not to know if anyone around him has anything to say.

It's not like it matters anyway.

Kakashi skirts the civilian district on the way home. Fewer civilians know who he and his father are. Still, he sticks to the rooftops wherever possible: even in his own village, it's safer out of sight. He doesn't know what he'll do when he returns home, but he's a Hatake, so he's sure he'll think of something.

(As smart as his father. Perhaps found dead like his father).

It's a dreary afternoon. Patches of sunlight squeeze through the cloud cover, struggling to reach the ground. Konoha's winters are grey and cold, but sleet hits the village harder than snow. Today is a mild day, but the rooftops are a little slippery. Kakashi doesn't mind, sticking himself down with chakra. He wishes he had the foresight to grab his scarf this morning; he wishes he had the foresight to do a lot of things.

 _Sorry father,_ he thinks, and as he kicks off the building and jumps to the next one, he catches sight of a familiar set of hand movements down in the street below.

His foot misses the roof entirely; he catches himself on his chest, chin and shoulders slamming hard into the tile. Pain radiates through his face, tears spring to his eyes. He expels a grunt of air as he scrabbles for purchase and hurls himself up ontao the building, and not a single civilian glances up at his clumsiness. But Kakashi's attention is already elsewhere. Heart pounding, he dashes along the roof to the street corner, locating the two women he saw moments ago. Judging by their dress, they're civilians, and Kakashi follows them along their stroll and watches their hands take the forms of KSL _signs_.

For twenty minutes he stalks them, at a loss for what else to do. He hasn't seen KSL for _months_. Their conversation is difficult to follow through the busy street, other people constantly breaking his line of sight, but that Kakashi can make out any signs at all is staggering. His parents were the only signers he's ever met. That there may be _other_ deaf individuals in the village - even if they're civilians - isn't something Kakashi ever hoped to conceive.

Eventually, the women make their way towards the residential district, and it seems as though their stroll is coming to an end. Kakashi panics. People in the village don't take kindly to his presence, and civilians tend not to view the shinobi population with mistrust, but he can't let these women slip by - not if they're like him. He teeters on the edge of a roof, chest tight with indecision but his body _alive_ with adrenaline. The women slow to a stop at a street corner, where two roads diverged. A few more people walk around them, heading off to their own locations. Kakashi waits, rocking back onto his heels. The women continue to sign and laugh, unheeding of his presence. One final person walks by and then the women are alone - they hug, wave farewell, and Kakashi leaps down beside them before he loses his only chance.

Both women startle at his sudden appearance, but only one of them raises her hand to her mouth. She lowers it to her chest, afterwards, crow’s feet wrinkling around her eyes as she laughs. Her mouth moves into the shape of speech, and her eyes are bright and expectant as she directions a question at Kakashi. Truly, he assumes it’s a question only by the tilt of her head, but it could be anything. It makes him falter; he’d expected sign. She falters too, gaze drifting over his chūnin vest and forehead-protector. Confusion tinged with urgency makes her frown. She speaks again, saying anything, and then flashes some signs at her friend. Seeing KSL almost makes Kakashi’s head hurt.

//Do you think he’s lost?//

Colour rises to Kakashi’s face. Revealing himself was a mistake. Jumping down from a rooftop was sure to scare a pair of civilians, but seeing them signing to each other had wiped all rational thought from his mind. He backs away, dipping his head in apology. If he leaves now, they’ll never think of him again; they’ll wipe this strange interaction from their minds. That’s what he wants, he tries to tell himself, and yet - and yet he’d jumped down to the street for a reason: he jumped down because he saw _sign_.

//I’m sorry// he signs, a closed fist circling his heart. It feels strange against his chest; his heart feels strange _inside_ his chest. It’s hammering like wind against the storm shutters of the Hatake house, shaking them long throughout the night.

One of the women reaches out and this time, they both sign: two fingers from the ear to the chin, and then an index at Kakashi.

//Are you deaf?//

He nods, and then because he doesn’t know what else to do, he apologises again.

The women _beam_. It's the weirdest reaction to his deafness that Kakashi's ever encountered; most people look embarrassed or frustrated and all cease trying to communicate with him. The two civilians go back to their signing, but now they include Kakashi, asking him rapid-fire questions and offering introductions at such a speed that he struggles to follow. They fingerspell what must be their names, but Kakashi's never been that good at putting together the letters. He catches an 'M’ and a bunch of vowels, all dotted along the fingertips. Only one of the women is deaf, he understands, but that's about all he sees.

Sensing his difficulty, the women slow down. The hearing woman laughs (but not _at_ him, not like everyone else) and the other offers an apology.

//Is there anything we can help you with, shinobi?//

Kakashi shakes his head. Explaining that he was engrossed by their signing and couldn't help but follow will make him sound like a weirdo, so he just shrugs. The civilians don't appear to mind this lacklustre answer, sharing a smile.

//It's nice to meet you. What's your name?//

Kakashi thinks about it. Sharing the 'HATAKE’ family sign in the past few years has proved to be a mistake, but his first name is something he _can_ fingerspell. Unfortunately, that's the name his parents gave him, and it's one he hasn't used for himself in almost a year. But these civilians don’t know who he is or what his parents named him; he’s just a deaf shinobi, he can be anyone to them.

//K-A-K-A-S-H-I// he introduces, spelling the name to something other than a mirror for the first time. He doesn’t want them to know his name-sign so he doesn’t offer it. Maybe that’s rude, but he doesn’t know. His father was the only other deaf person in his life - and now he’s dead. Kakashi doesn’t have to introduce himself in the shinobi world - one look at his hair and mismatched eyes and people know exactly who he is.

//K-A-K-A-S-H-I// the women repeat, still smiling as though he’s the best thing they’ve ever seen. They introduce themselves in turn, slower this time: ‘H-A-N-A’ the deaf woman signs, and her friend, ‘M-I-Y-O-K-O’.

Kakashi nods. He wants to smile but finds himself unable; he’s forgotten how to in the months since his father’s suicide, since _before_ the suicide. Now there’s just an emptiness in his chest. It’s been clawing through his body like a creature, like a Nara shadow crawling up to its kill.

//Are your parents also deaf?// Miyoko asks. She gestures between her and her friend. //Ours are. We’re sisters.//

//F-F// Kakashi replies, meaning _father_. He considers explaining that both of his parents are dead, but he thinks better of it. He doesn’t want to upset these two civilians, not when they’re being so nice. Still, there’s something on his mind, and his father always taught him to ask: //What did they think of you?//

He points at Miyoko, the hearing woman. She laughs. //I think they were disappointed!//

Hana nods her head, expression solemn, but then the twinkle in her eyes is teasing. That may be a _yes_ or a _no_.

//Are your parents shinobi?// Miyoko asks.

Kakashi nods. //I did not know about you// he tries, struggling to find the right signs. The thought that there might deaf civilians in the village never occurred to him; there certainly aren’t any other deaf shinobi. Miyoko mentioned their parents, but just because they’re civilians doesn’t mean they’re still alive. //Are there more of you?//

//Of course!// says Hana. //Not that many, but some. We’ve never met a deaf shinobi before.//

It’s almost accusing.

//I’ve never met a deaf civilian// Kakashi fires back, furrowing his brows and tipping up his chin.

Hana mock-slaps her sister with the back of one hand, pointing at Kakashi with the other as though to say, _look at this kid!_

//If you and your father want to meet more, we can give you the address to the deaf club// Miyoko says, pulling a pad of paper and a pen out of her sister’s pocket before Kakashi can reply. She scribbles down the address and directions and rips off the page. Kakashi’s written Konohan isn’t _brilliant_ and he tries not to blanch, but she seems to notice anyway, adding: //it’s at the community hall just around the corner from the Furano Shrine, do you know the one?//

He doesn’t know the building, but he knows of the shrine. There are two shrines in Konoha: the Furano Shrine in the civilian district and the Kyūkoku Shrine in the forests at the top of the Hokage Mountain. He doesn’t remember much about them, but they’re simple enough to locate. He nods and pockets the address, but he doubts he’ll attend any meetings at this ‘club’. He’s a shinobi; they’re civilians. But he appreciates the gesture - he appreciates it more than Miyoto and Hana will ever know.

//Otherwise we often hang out at Decaf, if that’s more your dad’s style// Hana adds.

//Decaf?// Kakashi repeats the sign, not sure he understands. His head hurts. It’s been so long since he had a conversation with anyone that these simple greetings are almost too much. He’ll have to go home and practice in the mirror: he might even summon Pakkun, who he hasn’t seen since his father’s death, and practice with him, too. (Pakkun can’t sign back, of course, but if he even _understands_ Kakashi then that’s more than every shinobi in the village combined).

//Yeah. Cafe about a block from here. Everyone signs.//

 _Everyone_ implying _more people_ . Kakashi can hardly believe his eyes. An emotion rises up inside of him that he hasn’t felt for the longest time; he feels almost giddy with it, with the sheer rush of _joy_.

//Everyone at Decaf will love to meet you// Miyoko adds, and she elbows her sister with a laugh. //But I can’t promise peace and quiet!//

Peace and quiet is exactly what Kakashi is trying to avoid. //Thank you// he says, and he means it. He doesn’t know if visiting Decaf is a good idea, but he _wants_ to. The shinobi world is lonely. Maybe the civilian world will be less so.

(This chance meeting is eight months too late to save his father, but maybe it’s right on time to save him).

 

 

 

**AND WHAT MAY BE THE LAST TIME**

Two pairs of child-wide eyes blink through the café window. Kakashi has long-since grown used to shinobi and civilians alike gawking at him: his clan traits don’t exactly lend themselves to _blending in_. The children point and caw at his hair like greedy little fledglings, their eyes dazzling at his mask, forehead-protector, and jacket. Jōnin are not often seen in this part of town. Civilians are easily unnerved by shinobi loitering around their residential districts, and Decaf is a café squeezed between a tiny community library and an even tinier hall. Kakashi used to tone-down his ‘threatening vibe’ by foregoing the more obvious markers of a shinobi (his vest, weapons pouches, and forehead-protector; although he was never, by any means, _unarmed_ ), but today it slipped his mind. Partly because it’s been so long since he was last here, but mostly because it was never his intention to return.

After Pain’s assault, there was always the notion that it wouldn’t _be_ here to return to. The death toll was unimaginable. A few months have passed since that terrible day (the day that should’ve been Kakashi’s last) and the village is rebuilding itself - but slowly. Aid from other nations and cities around Fire has been invaluable. It will be years before Konoha is completely rebuilt, but he’s glad to see that one little part of his life has survived the blast - his apartment certainly didn’t.

He sighs as the children inside the café duck away. At least he isn’t holding _Icha Icha Paradise_. A couple of civilians on the steps to the library keep glancing in his direction, their hands muffling the sounds from their mouths. They could be yelling profanities for all that Kakashi knows, but either way they’re hardly a threat so he tries to ignore them. One of the children reappears in the other café window, still goggling at him through the glass. The woman sitting at the table is clearly trying not to stare at him too, but her mouth is pressed into a thin line where the child’s is slack with awe. Kakashi should’ve switched into civvies.

The door to the café swings open. Kakashi is a jōnin and thus doesn’t _startle_ , but he does freeze like a scare goat at the woman who exits; at her barely-there age lines and faded, golden hair. Her jacket is so long that it sweeps around her ankles, and she crosses grey sleeves over her chest and plants herself in the doorway, preventing the curious children from slipping by.

The woman opens her mouth to say something and then - recognises him. Her arms unfold into signing space and Kakashi’s chest seizes.

//Kakashi?// she asks, taking in the familiarities about him: the Hatake traits, his covered eye. He’s not the teenager from her memory anymore; he’s not the child that followed her along the rooftops. And yet her guarded expression falls away. //Hatake Kakashi?//

//Hello M-I-Y-O-K-O// Kakashi replies, kicking himself for forgetting her name-sign. The years since he used it are no excuse: the relief upon seeing her alive are no excuse. //I was just passing by.//

He should’ve thought to check in on this part of the village months ago, but with temporarily dying, that whole fiasco with Danzō, and that _other_ fiasco with almost being _appointed Hokage of Konoha_ , Kakashi hasn’t had much time.

Miyoko’s eyes are soft; they always were, but they’re softer now with age. Unaccusing. She must be middle-aged for a civilian and ancient for a shinobi. In his mind, she’s still the young woman with untameable curly hair who bakes cat-shaped biscuits in her spare time. He wonders how he looks to her now, still white-haired but willowy and weird.

//The kids say you’ve been standing there for ages.//

The kids are _snitches_.

Kakashi scratches his cheek, unsure what to say. Letting his feet carry him here was a mistake, but he can’t deny that seeing her again is as awkward as it is as a _joy_. //Well I was -//

//Are you coming in? I can’t promise peace and quiet.//

That’s what she said the first time. Kakashi’s mouth twitches into a smile. He feels like that seven year old again, chasing a conversation of sign down the street. The hope that filled him then makes him hesitate now; he _should_ leave, he should go and meet the brats for another gruelling training day, and yet his feet have brought him here and here his chest is tight, his heart hammering with the desire to stay.

//It’s been a while.//

That’s an understatement. The last time they’d seen each other, he’d been fourteen and on the verge of throwing himself into ANBU. He could still smell Rin’s blood branding his hands. Maybe Miyoko and the others hadn’t known it then, but he’d only visited to say goodbye.

(It’s why he’s here this time, even if he’s yet to realise).

Miyoko rolls her eyes and beckons him in. //I know. Your favourite tea is still on the menu. I’ll pay.//

Kakashi isn’t the same fourteen year old that she remembers, but he’s still a cheapskate. He follows Miyoko inside like a runaway dog, its tail between its legs with worry, but its ears perked up with glee. Decaf has barely changed in the last decade; the furniture is the same, although the counter is new. The walls could do with a paint-job and Kakashi knows one particular team that might be up to the task. Or they might _not_ , but it’s hardly up to them now, is it?

There’s a large group of people at the back of the cafe, all seated around a bunch of tables that they’ve pushed together. The young cashier signs ‘GOOD-MORNING’ as Kakashi passes and Kakashi signs it back: the staff and customers ignore his shinobi uniform now that he’s inside, now that they realise he’s _deaf_. The cashier is unfamiliar, but a few faces in the larger group _ping!_ at the back of Kakashi’s mind. It’s not surprising. Decaf is one of the usual haunts of the civilian Deaf community in Konoha: Kakashi’s spent more time here than he has in his own apartment, and he hasn’t stepped foot in this café for _fourteen years_.

There’s fourteen people around the table, at a glance. Most are adults, but there are a few teenagers crowded over a card game at one end. There’s a handful of children as well, the more excitable ones running amok with colouring pens, wads of paper, and hazardous Konohan Sign. The teenagers and children are all a blur to Kakashi, but the elderly couple at the other end of the table were a frequent presence in Decaf when he was a child. They’ve only grown smaller and more frail with time, but they’re still using their favourite chairs in their favourite corner. It’s a relief to see so many people alive. Miyoko ushers Kakashi into a seat and he feels like he’s just stepped back in time.

//Everyone, this is Hatake Kakashi. Some of you may remember him -//

That’s all Kakashi sees before the woman in the seat beside him _yanks_ him into a hug. The embrace lasts two seconds too long for Kakashi’s war-primed reflexes, but he manages not to draw a kunai or replace himself with a log - but _barely_. There are more weapons on his person right now than any of these civilians will have ever seen, but as the woman pulls away to reveal a wide, wonky smile and wild plum hair, Kakashi freezes once again.

 _Hana_ , he mouths, recognising Miyoko’s quirky little sister.

Hana shakes her head, eyes wet. //I can’t believe you. _I can’t believe you!_ Who do you think you are, just vanishing off the face of the earth? We were so worried! I went marching into that dreadful Administration office looking for you, but they kept turning me away! Said your file was locked or something ridiculous; I wasn’t after your _damn_ file -//

 _Uh oh_ , Kakashi thinks. //Wait, wait, Hana -//

// - but they wouldn’t budge an inch! Miyoko and I were there almost everyday for a month looking for you! ‘Classified’ they kept telling us, like what _rubbish_. I even tried to hunt down that jōnin-sensei of yours because _he’d_ know where you were -//

Kakashi blanches. The thought of Hana and Minato - or, god forbid, Hana and _Kushina_ \- meeting fills him with terror. //Hana, Hana, please// he tries, expression pinched. She was always so _much_ and it seems she’s still the same. //I joined ANBU. I was there for a long time, but I’m declassified now. And with the war - I’m sorry. Does that help?//

//No// Hana says with a shake of her head. She dabs her eyes with a tissue and though Kakashi winces, he accepts her decision. He wouldn’t forgive himself either: Hana, Miyoko, and the community here helped him more as a child than the shinobi world ever did, and he repaid them by disappearing without a trace.

//Don’t you look like that// Hana scolds, accepting more tissues from the man beside her. //We were worried, but never angry -//

Miyoko signs //She was angry// behind Hana’s head. Kakashi tries very hard not to notice.

Hana continues dabbing her eyes. It’s not enough to quell her grief. //And then with the attack - so many people _died_. I’ve never seen anything like it. We assumed you were dead.//

Kakashi doesn’t tell her that he was.

The man beside Hana rubs her back and then smiles at Kakashi. He’s an older man, perhaps in his mid-forties. His hair is short but his beard is full, and two silver hoops hang from his ears. //I’m Hana’s husband, J-U-R-O// he introduces, and considering the last time Kakashi saw Hana she was bemoaning her string of terrible dates, this _is_ a surprise. //I haven’t seen her cry like this since we found a stray puppy.//

//That was two days ago// Hana says with a wobbly smile. //She’s over there - in S-H-I-N’s lap. I love her so much; more than the kids. Go fetch her, would you?//

Juro steps away for a moment, and when he returns, he deposits a tongue-lolling, butt-wiggling cocker spaniel pup into Kakashi’s lap. It immediately tries to lick his face and Kakashi laughs, worried that _he_ may start crying too.

//Have you met everyone here?// Juro asks. //Decaf’s been our primary meeting point since the community hall in Furano was destroyed.//

Kakashi shakes his head, so Juro goes around the table introducing everyone. They all pitch in with a greeting and a little information about themselves; even the puppy, who insists on slobbering all over Kakashi’s mask. He would very much like to take her home and keep her all to himself, and he doesn’t even think his ninken would mind. Miyoko reappears just as Juro finishes introducing the table, and she sets that promised cup of tea down in front of him. If it’s possible, the puppy’s tail wags even more, beating against Kakashi’s chest like the world’s cutest stick.

He’s missed this place, he realises. Maybe fourteen year old him was right to distance himself from this community (for their safety, he told himself, for his own peace of mind) but maybe he was wrong. Miyoko, Hana, and everyone here helped forge his identity as a Deaf man. Kakashi loves his signing friends and students, but it’s not the same.

It’s not the same - but it will have to do. With the war looming, this may be Kakashi’s last chance to spend time with this community at all.

//It’s so good to see you again. I can’t believe how tall you’ve gotten!// Miyoko says. //Is there anything we can do for you? You could do with putting some more meat on those bones. You were always such a skinny thing.//

//There’s a battle approaching// Kakashi explains, although he immediately recognises that it’s a lacking explanation. Fourteen years he’s been absent and that’s all he has to say. He sighs, lips pressing together. //I can’t say much. I’ll be on the front-lines.//

Miyoko sees straight through him. She learnt to, over the years of baking cookies and coaxing him into conversation. When he was a child, she used to sit him down over a cup of tea, not dissimilar to this, and chat and chat away. At seven, he barely participated, but by eight, nine, ten years old, he would tell her all about his classes, Gai’s challenges, Minato-sensei, and his team. Now, he can’t tell her any details of the war, but she understands anyway.

//You’ve come to say goodbye again.//

Kakashi winces. And then he winces again as the squirming puppy headbutts him under the jaw. He’s had a lot of practice signing with dogs in his lap, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. //I’m sorry.//

Miyoko smiles. //I know. That hasn’t changed.//

Kakashi kind-of-not-really smiles.

Miyoko flusters. //Oh, what am I saying? Thank you for popping by. You’re _always_ welcome.//

He knows that - he’s just never believed it. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, fingers tapping together. The puppy tries to lick them. //With the war, I - there’s some people I’d like you to meet. Family. They’re hearing but - I’ve taught them KSL.//

//Family is family!// Miyoko replies, leaning forward in interest. Still a gossip at heart, it seems, and her eyes gleam.

Heat rises to Kakashi’s face. //There’s also my friend - she has a baby, M-I-R-A-I. She’s deaf. I actually want to introduce you before I leave. Just in case.// Kurenai should have a support network in case things go awry out in the field. Mirai will _not_ grow up as he did - Kakashi won’t allow it.

Miyoko nods. //Well then, you know where to send her// she says with a smile. She finally takes the puppy from Kakashi, although he’s reluctant to let her go. His tea _is_ growing cold though and it would be rude not to drink it considering Miyoko bribed him with it.

//Tell me about your friends and family// she requests. //I’d love to meet them. And enjoy your tea! You’ve got time, haven’t you? You _know_ we run by deaf time here.//

Kakashi laughs. Right now, he would like nothing more. He wracks his brain for the dumbest things his friends and team have done: Naruto’s tales could certainly entertain Miyoko for days, but maybe Kakashi should ease her into the madness of Team 7 life a bit more gently. He takes a sip of his tea as he ponders and - it’s good; it’s exactly how he remembers.

Many things have changed and many more will change. But at least Decaf is still standing to serve his favourite tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I never write OC-heavy fics, so this is new to me. Hope it's okay! Any and all comments are appreciated :)
> 
> Written for the [badthingshappenbingo](https://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com/). Prompt was "big brother instinct" (although I suppose it's big sister here? :P)


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